


Vengeance Sweet as Sugar

by writworm42



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Dom/sub, Drag King, F/F, Hair Pulling, Lesbian AU, Mommy Kink, Oral Sex, Spanking, Strap-On, Sugar Mommy, past bullying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 09:27:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20654945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writworm42/pseuds/writworm42
Summary: Based on that one tumblr post about how a girl gets bullied by a dude and then winds up being his mom's sugar baby, making him cry.This started as smut, and became this. Oops.





	Vengeance Sweet as Sugar

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Holtzmanns for helping me with this, and I do mean helping. This was actually a pretty challenging fic to write, and without you brainstorming, beta-ing, and encouraging me, I would never have been able to come up with it and see it through. You're the greatest <3

When Vanessa gets into drag, she thinks about Jerome. Every time she paints to become Jose Cancel, she paints the cheekbones that he called freaky, the eyebrows he called ugly. The mustache he could never grow, the abs that he used to say he had but she was sure he didn’t, because boys like him were never who they pretended to be in front of others. She paints to be just as dykey, just as weird, just lesbo as he used to say she was. And she lip-syncs and dances just as spazzy, just as sped and stupid and slow, as he used to call her. Performs everything he and his friends used to say didn’t belong. 

Only she does belong now, because she’s weird, because she’s dykey. And her eyebrows aren’t ugly, and her cheekbones aren’t freaky. They’re handsome, dapper, stud-like, anything she wants to be. Her dance isn’t spazzy or slow, it’s sexy and clever and makes the crowd go wild. She’s now everything that Jerome used to tell her she couldn’t be, and it comes alive when she performed as Jose. When she’s Jose, it’s revenge, a big _ fuck you _ by making everything he used to taunt her for into a strength that she flaunts. And then she hits the stage and forgets all about him, about anything but the music and her character and how _ good _ it feels to perform. 

And after she’s done, she wipes off the makeup, puts on a dress, takes off her wig, and goes home happy and alive.

Of course, it’s tough to make it as a drag king, especially if she wants to do it full-time. Sure, there are the king shows once a week and the brunches once a month, things she’s become a regular at, if not a permanent cast-member. There’s the times she might open for queens, too, always the main events. But a week and a month doesn't make the rent, and the tips she gets paid for the openings don’t buy many groceries. 

In that sense, Brooke is an absolute blessing. Not that she’s not a blessing in other ways, too, but when Vanessa thinks about it, she really has lucked out.

When Vanessa had logged onto Seeking Arrangements about a year ago, she hadn’t been expecting too much. Some creepy dudes to send pics to, or a lonely old man who just wanted to take someone for expensive dinners. Someone to pay her rent on time, who could support her in place of her part-time job at Wal-Mart. 

What she hadn’t expected was for her first message to be from an incredibly hot, incredibly _ young _ -looking blonde woman, a divorcee whose sarcastic banter and sweet compliments caught Vanessa’s eye almost immediately. Within the week, they’d set up their first date, and soon after that, Vanessa had been moving in, sleeping in Brooke’s bed, proudly repeating the word _ girlfriend _over and over, sometimes even just to herself on days where she could hardly believe it. 

Brooke is smart, funny, kind, creative, poised, and _ hers. _

Really, the huge allowance and beyond-comfortable living is just a bonus. That and the sex, of course. 

“Hey, baby!” Brooke calls from her car when Vanessa emerges from the club, night air cold against her face. It’s almost November now, and while one would think Vanessa had the sense to bring a jacket with her to work, she still rarely does, making Brooke’s insistence on picking her up every week an extra blessing.

“How come the shades are up?” Vanessa throws open the car door to lean in and give Brooke a quick kiss. It’s only when she’s pulling back that she feels something catch on her skirt, and that’s when she looks down at her seat.

Oh. 

That’s why the shades were up.

“Panties off, I want you riding it every time we’re at a stop and sitting still every time we’re moving.” Brooke hums cheerfully, not even looking as Vanessa slides into the car and wriggles out of her underwear before easing herself onto the dildo Brooke has left waiting for her in the passenger seat. “Ready to go?”

Vanessa doesn’t get the full word out before Brooke rears ahead, the vibrations of the car in motion making it almost painful to have to sit still the whole way.

\--

There are pictures of Brooke’s son all over the house. Vanessa doesn’t really mind it at first; everyone has pictures of their family up somewhere. Brooke isn’t so young that having an adult son is impossible. But then one day, Vanessa looks at the picture hanging across from Brooke’s bed, like _ really _ looks at it, and things get weird.

Brooke’s son is stocky, freckled, and eerily familiar. But Vanessa can’t put her finger on it, no matter how much it bothers her.

Vanessa starts leading Brooke to fuck in her own bedroom, blessedly devoid of any family pictures, just so she doesn’t have to look the guy in the face and think about where in the world she’s seen his amber eyes before, and why they make her feel so unsettled.

“Aww, the car ride got you all excited, huh?” Brooke smirks as she brings Vanessa into the bedroom, closing the door behind them. She already has one hand slipping its way under Vanessa’s dress, fingertips ghosting her thighs and coming into contact with the wetness that has dripped onto them. The other hand wraps its way around Vanessa’s waist, keeping her in place while Brooke continues whispering in Vanessa’s ear.

“Answer me, baby girl. Did you get all horny, sitting and riding on mommy’s dick the whole way home?”

“Obviously.” Vanessa huffs, writhing her hips in frustration while Brooke continues to explore Vanessa’s body under her dress, fingers travelling everywhere but where Vanessa wants them. It’s a bit of brattiness that earns Vanessa a sharp slap on the ass, Brooke’s other arm tightening its grip around Vanessa even further.

“I want to hear you say it, baby girl. Tell me how turned on you are.” 

Vanessa can tell from the way that Brooke’s hand freezes that she’s dripping right onto it. She smirks.

“Make me.”

Vanessa’s challenge is magic words; Brooke pushes Vanessa down onto the bed and flips up the skirt of her dress, ready to spank Vanessa into submission. Vanessa steels herself, readies herself for the impact, but it doesn’t come. Instead, Brooke clicks her tongue disapprovingly.

“Oh, sweetheart, did you really think I was gonna make things that easy for you?” She laughs a little, only moving to knot a hand in Vanessa’s hair and turn her head back away from herself when Vanessa turns around to look. “No, baby, that’s not how we’re playing it tonight. You think you’re so cute, trying to manipulate me into spanking you. Just what you want, right? You want mommy’s hand on your ass, want me to make it nice and red and achy?”

Vanessa stays silent.

“That’s what I thought.” Brooke’s voice is smug as she slides her hand away from Vanessa’s hair, Vanessa knowing full well to keep facing forward now. There’s silence, one that drags on for what seems like forever, until Vanessa’s heartbeat finally breaks it.

“Mommy, are we—“ 

“Nuh-uh. We’re gonna be nice and quiet and still until you tell me what I want to hear.”

Vanessa feels herself blush deeply, the area between her legs getting slicker by the second. As much as she doesn’t want to give in, the silence is absolutely evil, and the fact that when she turns around this time, Brooke isn’t even looking at her fills her with a kind of shame that only makes sticking to her guns less and less appealing.

“Well?” Brooke prompts again, and Vanessa finds herself breathing out a sigh of relief just at hearing the other woman talk. “Do you have something to say, sweetheart?”

“Yes.” Vanessa’s voice is barely a whisper, only to rise in volume when it’s met with a hard slap on her ass. “Yes Mommy, fuck, I’m so wet, want you to fuck me, please. I’m so horny, please!”

One more spank, then Brooke is sitting on the bed next to where Vanessa is bent over, smiling as she reaches down to soothe the stinging flesh of Vanessa's ass. 

“Good girl. Now get up on the bed, and let Mommy take care of you.”

Vanessa would have gone willingly; heck, she probably would’ve dove onto the bed faster than Brooke. Nonetheless, she lets Brooke grab her hair and lead her, half for posterity’s sake, half because it’s nice to have the reminder of control. 

Plus, from the way Vanessa can hear Brooke’s breathing hitch, she can tell that the older woman loves being able to forcibly take control, too, even if in the back of her mind she knows Vanessa’s giving it willingly. 

Brooke pulls off Vanessa’s dress and tosses it to the side carelessly, neither of them really caring where it lands. Their eyes are locked on each other hungrily as Brooke towers over Vanessa, crawling over to box her in as Vanessa lays down for Brooke to take in.

“I want this off.” Brooke traces a finger over where the seam of Vanessa’s bra cup meets the skin of her breast, making Vanessa shudder. It goes the same way as the dress, and then Vanessa is completely exposed underneath Brooke, breathless as she waits for the taller woman to make her next move. 

For the most part, Brooke is a creature of habit. She gets up at the same time every day, does the same workout routine before the same oatmeal breakfast, and gets dressed in the same type of outfit (skirt, blazer, and button-up blouse with a diamond brooch, _ thank you very much _). Drives the same car despite having more than one. Uses the same shampoos and soaps in the shower, and eats the same cut of steak for dinner. In the bedroom, thought, it’s a different story--Vanessa never quite knows what Brooke is going to do, never knows how she’s going to be taken or what state she’ll be in by the time they’re done. 

It’s a game she loves playing, and she can feel her clit throbbing harder at the suspense. 

Tonight, despite the roughness of their foreplay, Brooke is feeling affectionate, fucking Vanessa soft and gentle with her fingers deep in Vanessa’s cunt. She massages Vanessa’s spot slowly, almost languidly, smirking against Vanessa’s nipple as she swirls the hardened bud with her tongue.

“Love feeling you squeezing me back like this.” Brooke growls, sucking down hard suddenly and making Vanessa’s hips buck as she cries out in response to the sensation. “You’re dripping right down my wrist, did you know that, sweetheart?” 

Vanessa nods desperately, gasping for air as Brooke starts to speed up, clearly relishing how Vanessa’s body is beginning to go rigid under her touch. Her other hand grabs at Vanessa’s hip, pinning it down lightly, more a reminder than a command for Vanessa to stay perfectly still. It’s a task that proves harder and harder as Brooke continues to fuck her, but either Brooke is giving her enough rope to hang herself with, or she’s out of focus, too busy kissing her way down Vanessa’s body, all the way to her aching clit.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, mommy, please keep doing that, just like that.” Vanessa’s voice is hoarse, only to crack and become absolutely raw when Brooke speeds up yet again, licking and sucking mercilessly until finally, she’s whispering permission to come into Vanessa’s cunt, the words irresistible against Vanessa’s clit. 

When she finally comes down from her orgasm and kisses herself off of Brooke’s lips, she’s almost sleepy, Brooke’s hand stroking her hair only serving to lull her further into a sated, dozing state. 

“I love you.” She murmurs against Brooke’s skin.

There’s silence, and then the few words Vanessa would never have expected, words that wake her right up.

“I want you to meet my son.”

\--

Once Vanessa calms down and has a glass of water, she makes her way up to Brooke’s bedroom, her son’s face following her from his pictures as she walks through the house.

She has to admit that she does kind of want to meet him--if nothing else but to figure out why the fuck he looks so familiar, where in the world she may know him from.

And it’s kind of exciting to think that Brooke wants to take them over this next step, march them just a little further towards the forever they had started talking about around a month ago.

Brooke wants Vanessa in diamonds for the wedding. Vanessa wants Brooke in lace. They want a new place after they’re married, somewhere that is _ theirs _, with just enough room for the both of them. A summer home in the mountains where they can get away, just because. A dog or cat, maybe both.

Brooke’s son will be at the wedding. He’ll probably spend time at their new house, and their summer home. They’ll have to make sure they got a pet he isn’t allergic to.

To have her future with Brooke, she has to have a future with Brooke’s son.

“I’m so excited for you to meet him.” Brooke beams when Vanessa crawls back into bed and nods, sealing her agreement to the meetup with a long, deep kiss. “You’re gonna love Jerome, I just know it.”

_ Wait. _

Jerome?

Suddenly, everything clicks, and forever takes on a much more ominous implication.

_ Fuck. _

\--

“I don’t get what you’re so pressed about, hoe.” Silky sighs on the other end of the phone, rustling in the background telling Vanessa that her best friend is also in the middle of something else. Typical.

“Bitch, can you put down your knitting or whatever the fuck you’re doin’ and listen? He was a _ nightmare _, okay? An’ I never had a chance to get away from him, K to twelve. Always somethin’ new to taunt me for. I ever tell you about the time he and his friends cornered me an’--”

“You have, and I still wanna pound his ass so far into the ground he comes out eatin’ a dingo.” Silky huffs, the rustling in the background turning into a firm crunch that somehow made Vanessa smile despite herself.

Silky may not know what Jerome looks like, but whatever she’s doing on the other line, Vanessa can tell the object Silky’s holding had just become a stand-in for Jerome’s head, and _ boy _, is that a satisfying thought.

“So you understand my dil--my dal--my problem now?” 

“I mean, yes, but also no.” Vanessa can practically hear Silky’s sigh on the other line. “Look, ain’t nobody wanna see someone who tortured them as bad as he did to you when you was kids, but bitch. _ You fuckin’ his mom an’ gettin’ diamonds for it. _You know how much power that has?” 

Vanessa nearly drops her phone as Silky’s words sink in.

_ She’s fucking his mom and getting diamonds for it. _

“You just realizin’ I’m right now, huh?” Silky teases. 

“My good Dr Ganache.” Vanessa grins, her voice telling Silky everything she needs to know.

“You’re welcome, bitch. Now, go eat her pussy and then kill it with that bitchass motherfucker Jeremy.” 

“Jerome.”

“Whatever, Christine. By tomorrow we ain’t gonna need to know his name at all.” 

\--

The agreement is that Brooke and Vanessa will meet Jerome at the bar where Vanessa would be performing an open mic that night. There isn’t a dressing room in the bar, so Vanessa would be arriving in drag, meaning that Jerome will be meeting José first. Perfect; Vanessa can’t wait for Jerome to see her perform, see her thrusting into his mom and taking tips from her hands and attracting the attention of more women in the bar than he ever could. And then once she’s done, once they move on to the next act and she slips away to shed her makeup and costume in the bathroom, he’ll see exactly who all that sex and power belongs to.

Not that Vanessa tells Brooke any of that. In fact, she doesn’t really say much on the car ride over; she’s too fucked out from their antics before they packed up to get ready for the night, but at the same time, she also doesn’t want to burst Brooke’s bubble.

Vanessa had been angry for a while after she’d put two and two together, her rage driven mostly by confusion. How the _ fuck _ could someone as kind, giving, and smart as Brooke have raised a literal monster? She had seethed almost all night after Brooke had gone to sleep, turning the sullied image of Brooke over again and again in her head.

But then Brooke mentioned over breakfast that she’d only recently reconnected with her son, that after the divorce, he mostly lived with his dad, since Brooke travelled so much for work. The timeline didn’t exactly add up--Jerome would have been eleven when Brooke and her husband separated--but it was enough to give Vanessa somewhere else to put the blame, and anyway, people changed, right? It wasn’t Brooke’s fault--she’d only been there for half his childhood. It was probably Jerome’s dad’s fault, especially if Brooke had been travelling even before their divorce. Besides, she can’t blame the sins of the guy _ entirely _on his mother. Especially not when his mother is someone that she loves so much.

So she’s going to be a little wishy-washy with her morals; sue her. For Brooke, it’s worth it. 

“You nervous?” Brooke reaches over and squeezes Vanessa’s hand after they park, her voice wavering in a manner that would have sounded strange to hear to anyone except Vanessa. But Vanessa knows better than to assume Brooke’s cool, collected demeanour is anything but a mask; she’s nervous, just like Vanessa is, and it’s Vanessa’s job to support her.

“It’s gonna be okay.” She smiles kindly, though her own heartbeat is speeding up uncomfortably as it sank in that in less than a second, they’d have to get out of the car.

Jerome is late, of course, giving Vanessa the perfect excuse to pull Brooke into the bar bathroom and finger her so roughly that her clothes can’t be completely smoothed down when they’re done.

Vanessa smirks when she peeks out into the crowd on the way to the stage, watching how Jerome looks his mother up and down when he walks in and greets her, no doubt noticing how dishevelled he looks.

Vanessa hopes he notices her, too.

\--

Vanessa knows by the look on Jerome’s face while she performs that he doesn’t recognize her. In fact, it hits her halfway through her set that he doesn’t even seem that fazed by where they are, until she finishes and Jerome finally has a chance to look at the crowd, finally has the chance to realize he was in the company of queers, drag performers, and other kinds of freaks he would have rather died than associate himself with back when they were kids. Then it hits her.

Jerome hadn’t known he was in a gay bar. Which means he thought Vanessa was a cis man just performing a lip sync number.

_ Excellent. _

Brooke comes into the bathroom to help Vanessa undress and pack José up, quickly and without too much fooling around this time—after all, Jer-bear is waiting outside for them. And when they finally come back to where he was sitting, their hands intertwined, the look on his face is priceless.

“You—“

“Oh, Jerome, so nice to see you!” Vanessa cuts Jerome off at the pass, her voice dripping with a false sunniness she knows won’t fool him. “Remember me, Vanessa?”

Jerome looks like she’s going to faint. Vanessa thinks she might too, with how fast her head is spinning.

“Oh, you two know each other?” Brooke smiles, still blessedly oblivious. Vanessa just leans up and kisses her right on the lips, casting a smug glance at Jerome to watch his face redden.

“Yes, my love, we went to school together! Isn’t that right, Jerome?” She turns back to bat her eyelashes at him, barely able to keep it together as he continues to stammer in dumbfounded shock. “Sorry I _ sped _ away right after my number, by the way, had to take my eyebrows and cheekbones off. Performing is always a _ special _ affair, and _ dykes _ like your mom and I always tip well if you have a good, masculine look to you and know how to get _ freaky _ , but outside of drag it’s not really my thing. Wouldn’t want your mom to think I was _ ugly _, now, would I?”

“Oh baby, never!” Brooke laughs, and that’s when Jerome finally finds his words again.

“Mom, you’re a—_ is this why you and dad divorced?” _

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Vanessa answers before Brooke can, barely able to keep the excitement from her voice as she goes for the kill. “Oh, sweetheart, your mom and I have been talking for a while now about our future! If all goes well, you might be looking at your future step-mom. Or would I be a step-dad? What do you think, baby cakes?”

—

“Wait, the bitch _ cried? _Oh my God.” Silky laughs loudly into the phone as she listens to Vanessa recount the night.

“Trust and believe, mama, it was fucking amazing. Turned tail and ran out of there sobbin’ like the little coward he is.”

They laugh for a moment more until finally, the humour leaves the situation, and they’re left in silence.

“So does Brooke know now, or…”

“Yeah.” Vanessa nods. “I told her everythin’. She was absolutely horrified. Apologized an’ said he’d be gettin’ a talking to tomorrow when he comes over for brunch. If he does at all, I don’t know, Mary.” That’s the part of the whole situation that still bugs Vanessa; whatever’s going to happen moving forward. 

Sure, she’s had her moment of vengeance now, but it doesn’t change the fact that Jerome and Brooke are family, and that they love each other. It doesn’t change that she’ll still have to see him at family gatherings and special occasions, or that he’ll likely play a pretty big role in the wedding. And it doesn’t change the fact that every time she’s going to think of him now, she’s going to remember how crestfallen Brooke had looked when she’d heard what kind of a monster her son had been in his childhood.

“Well, if he do show up tomorrow, make sure you ram a cinnamon bun up his ass and tell him it’s from me.” Silky’s voice was matter of fact, and somehow it made Vanessa laugh despite herself. “Okay, hoe, I gotta go, but call me tomorrow and let me know how it all goes, alright? Can’t have my good Judy gettin’ all chewed up by guilt that ain’t hers to feel.” 

“Alright, bye.”

Vanessa jumps when she turns around after hanging up the phone, surprised to see Brooke standing in the doorway, chewing her lip.

“Brooke--” Vanessa starts, but Brooke shakes her head, surprising Vanessa even further when she smiles.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.”

“It’s a tough situation.” Vanessa comes over to Brooke and wraps her arms around her, hugging her tightly. Brooke just shakes her head.

“It’s not nearly as tough as me as it is for you, babe. My son acted _ horribly _ to you, but at the very least I get to say he’s not the same person he was and carry on with my life. You… You have to deal with reminders every time you see him now.” 

Vanessa says nothing, only pulls Brooke a little closer, closing her eyes as she feels Brooke’s hands wrap around her body in turn, fingers running gently through her hair. 

“I can’t promise I know what’s gonna happen next, baby.” Brooke’s voice is soft, and she starts to rock Vanessa a little, the rhythm helping her relax further into Brooke’s embrace, “I wish I could. But I can promise that I am one hundred percent on your side, and if he ever tries to mistreat you again, he’s out, because I’m not going to tolerate it. Okay?”

“Okay.”

They stay like that for a while longer, holding each other, rocking, and breathing, until Brooke’s hand migrates down to Vanessa’s ass, squeezing gently. 

It won’t solve anything. It isn’t what either of them need to do or say. But when Vanessa lets Brooke ease her down on the bed, it feels nice. 

“I wanna go down on you.” Vanessa whispers into Brooke as they kiss. Brooke doesn’t stop, only nods before flipping them over so that Vanessa is straddling her, their lips barely parting for a single moment during the shift. She nips her way down Brooke’s body, leaving a trail of red marks that will blossom into purple bruises by morning as she goes. Retribution, maybe, or else some kind of possessiveness, if anything at all. 

Really, Vanessa just wants to hear Brooke whimper in pleasure at the sensation.

She stops when she gets to Brooke’s pussy, skips over it and goes for her thighs instead, this time with stroking, scratching fingers.

“Baby, stop teasing Mommy…” Brooke breathes out, her voice barely audible through the quiet moan she lets out when Vanessa finally reaches the apex of her thighs, starts to move towards the waistband of her panties to pull them down.

Vanessa holds onto Brooke’s thighs tightly when she finally licks her way up the older woman’s slit, smirking when she feels them shake under her fingertips. 

Brooke comes about three times that night, each orgasm under Vanessa’s tongue, each followed by a statement Vanessa already knew but loved--_ needed _\--to hear.

_ I love you, fuck, Vanessa, oh my God, I love you. _

\--

Brunch the next morning is… Uncomfortable. To his credit, Jerome shows up, albeit seeming jumpy and like he’d rather be anywhere else. Vanessa is surprised to see a woman in tow with him, someone she learns is his wife, who’s quite pregnant with their first daughter. 

Vanessa resists the urge to ask Jerome what he’ll do if the daughter turns out to be gay, have the audacity to have big eyebrows, or to have ADHD. In fact, if it weren’t for his wife, she probably would have; but Lily is lovely, and accepting, and gushes about how she wants to see Vanessa perform once their daughter is born. 

“Are you sure you want to bring Isabelle into that kind of environmen--”

“Oh, shut up, Jerome. These ladies are lovely, and I’m sure everyone else in those bars is, too. Besides, if her grandma is going to be doing drag, then she’ll need to know, right? No reason to keep it a secret.”

Jerome twitches, but says nothing.

The afternoon continues in a stilted, awkward manner; Vanessa talks mostly to Lily, ignoring Jerome or holding onto Brooke for some kind of support--moral, physical, emotional, some kind of combination maybe--whenever she does have to acknowledge him. Brooke doesn’t leave Vanessa alone with Jerome that whole afternoon, and he never says anything about the events of the night previous. Good; neither of them want him to. 

Still, Brooke delivers on her promise, and doesn’t let him get away with everything.

“I hope to God you’ve changed, Jerome, if not for me and Vanessa, then for Lily and Isabelle.” Brooke shakes her head when Lily leaves to go to the bathroom, breaking the silence with a scornful tone.

Jerome says nothing, but nods. 

\--

In the months that follow, Jerome surprises Vanessa. He comes to her shows, comes to brunch weekly, asks her how she’s doing a few times when they do see each other. When she looks at him, there’s no remorse in his eyes, not really, but there’s caution, and then neutrality, and then something close to liking.

He never says he’s sorry; Vanessa doesn’t want him to. She doesn’t want to have to forgive him, and blessedly, he never seems to expect that either.

When Isabelle is finally born, Lily asks Vanessa to be the Godmother, and Jerome doesn’t twitch when Vanessa agrees. 

“It’s for Isabelle, not for you.” Vanessa informs him flatly as they wander out of Lily’s hospital room, finding seats in the maternity ward waiting area.

“I know.” He nods.

“Just because we’re family now doesn’t mean I’m okay with you.”

“I know.”

Three months later, Vanessa and Brooke get engaged, and Jerome is there with a video camera, smiling at the sight. 

Despite herself, Vanessa smiles too. 


End file.
